


Infinite Sadness... Not Quite

by RiddleMeEvil



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 501st And 212th, Bullied Obi-Wan, Creche Masters, F/M, Infant Obi-Wan, M/M, Obi-Wan Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan always needed love but never got it, Obi-Wan loves his History class, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poor Obi-Wan, Soulmarks, Soulmate AU, The chapter lengths are going to vary a lot, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-22 19:47:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12489472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiddleMeEvil/pseuds/RiddleMeEvil
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi.Infinite sadness, from the beginning.He told Anakin once, and was so used to this fact that he said it while smiling.





	1. Infant, Crying

**Author's Note:**

> So. I’ve got this stuck in my head. 
> 
> And when writing the chapter outline- did you guys know how many sad things happened to Obi-Wan Kenobi?! *sobs*
> 
> I’ve also got a Titanic/SW AU in the works, so keep an eye out <3
> 
> Enjoy, and watch the tags as they change!!!!

The tiny baby _sobbed_ , little fists waving weakly through the air. His hunger and fear and loneliness echoed hollowly through the Force, his miraculous and vast affinity for it making his disquiet known to all around him.

Little Obi-Wan Kenobi’s heart wrenching cries pierced the silence and calm of the crèche, other infants stirring but not quite awakening yet, thanks to the calming pulses emanating from their caretakers.

A tall figure swept silently between the rows of cribs towards the restless little one’s nest, a gentle and compassionate yet emotionally detached hand resting for a moment on his round, grumbling belly, and the infant’s cries rose in pitch. Arms scooped him from his cradle, pressing the tiny body to a soft chest layered by smooth cloths, and his body rocked soothingly as his rescuer carried him from his cold bed.

He nuzzled into the warmth, but the unadulterated love and affection his still forming thoughts remembered of another— _a sweet, low voice, a shining smile lit by a warm fireplace... all encompassing love and soft hands pressing him to her heart_ — his _mother_ , wasn’t there. A cry for her gentle presence rang through the Force, but nothing answered, the insistent nub of a bottle brushing over his tiny mouth.

His cries slowed and stopped, rosy lips parting and searching for the nub, latching on to suck greedily for the milk inside. Within a few minutes, green-blue watery eyes opened and gazed up at the blurry blue face above him, the being holding him and caring for him, and when his feelings were soothed within the Force by a strange presence his little, sleepy mind forgot the unrest of his previous moments.

A hand cradled his tiny head, covered in a red-gold fuzz, and soon the infant boy was sound asleep once more.


	2. Child, Bullied

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan is around seven years old here.

A little Mon Calamari girl flitted through the vast halls of the Jedi Temple, peaking behind every pillar and statue she came across. She was obviously worried, her tiny hands clenching nervously at her sides, and as she passed through a side corridor she froze.

A minuscule whimper wafted through the air, from a meditation room with the door slightly ajar. She turned towards it, hesitantly sliding the door open far enough for her small body to slip through, and found herself face to face with a quivering mound of blankets.

“Obi?” She called tentatively, a webbed hand reaching to pat the shaking pile.

“Obi, _please_ come out..” She cajoled, moving to sit cross-legged on the floor.

A beat passed, then another, and the blanket was swept away, revealing a small boy— even tinier than she— with tear filled green eyes and tousled copper locks. He rubbed furiously at his cheeks, smearing the salty drops over his skin, and hiccuped.

She sighed. Leaning forward, she put a gentle hand on his knee, and a rough sob tore from his throat.

“Obi,” She repeated affectionately, rubbing his knee. “What happened this time?”

He sniffled, another sob bursting from his chest.

“He _tricked_ me, Bant!” He wailed suddenly, shoulders shaking with sobs, and Bant moved to sit beside him, back against the wall. He sank into her embrace, eyes pressed tightly shut.

“He goaded me and _goaded_ me, and I didn’t _want_ to but I snapped— and then Master Windu was _right there_...” He trailed off, voice hoarse from crying.

“And Bruck convinced him _I’d_ been attacking _him_ all morning, and got out of trouble, and now _I’m_ the one who can’t go on the field trip for Galactic History tomorrow!!”

Bant drooped, pulling Obi-Wan’s trembling body closer to her. “Oh, _Obi_...” She whispered. “Didn’t you tell Master Windu?”

“N-no..!” He paused, swallowing back more tears. “No,” He said again. “He wouldn’t _let_ me— he said my record this month is already too marred, and I don’t have a _say!!_ ”

He broke again, and Bant held him, rocking the younger boy slowly back and forth.

It wasn’t fair to Obi-Wan— Bruck consistently abused and bullied him, manipulating the smaller boy into the aggressor’s position any time an adult was present, forcing Obi-Wan to take all punishments that should have been Bruck’s, had a Master seen their entire altercation.

However, the bigger boy’s greatest skill was his total control of the situations involving little Obi-Wan, and so the Masters— with the exception of Yoda, who unfortunately couldn’t mend each rift justly, so busy with the Order as he was— had pinned the tiny redhead as an aggressive and angry child. Obi-Wan _was_ emotional, and strong in the Unifying Force, but he wasn’t teetering on the edge of Darkness like so many thought.

Bant hummed soothingly in his ear, hoping to soothe his sobs. “Shh, Obi,” She said softly again, childish sweetness and affection in her voice. “I’ll say I’m sick, and stay here with you!! Then you won’t—“

“ _No_ , Bant!” Obi-Wan cut her off, raising his head to gaze into her eyes with his own puffy and red ones. “It’s okay. You go. You can tell me all about it afterwards.”

She looked at him, clearly wanting to argue, but he hugged her fiercely.

“ _Go_ , Bant. Have fun, alright?” He said firmly, his voice wavering only slightly at the end. She prodded him clumsily with the Force, and he prodded back, and a tiny smile appeared on her face.

“I will.” She sighed, hugging him back. “But you have to stop crying, first.”

There was a pause. He looked up with a cheeky if tremulous grin, and she laughed. “Oh, Obi..” She giggled. He wiped his eyes.

“Don’t worry, okay?” She hugged him tightly in response.


	3. Boy, Unchosen

The stars streaked by, hyperspace elongating their tails into streams of brilliant light.

Obi-Wan stared listlessly out the small viewport in his cabin, the luminescent beauty outside dulled by his shock and grief.

Bandomeer.

He was a failure.

Unchosen by thirteen, sent to the Agricorps to pick up the pieces of his life and start anew as a castaway of the Jedi Order. Never again to hone his talent with a lightsaber, or learn the intricacies of the Force... Never to feel the sacred Bond of a Master and Padawan. Likely never to meet his soulmate— the Mark on his hip held the distinct silver shimmer that meant his other half was— or would be— a Jedi-to-be.

He hadn’t cried— a Jedi must not show emotion. They must be at peace.

 _But I’m not a Jedi,_ he thought bitterly, traitorous tears pricking at his eyes. He leaned his forehead against the cool transparisteel of the window.

_I’m not a Jedi, and I’m leaving the only home and family I’ve ever known._

Hot, salty liquid leaked from his downcast eyes, and within the Force he folded in on himself, hiding his grief for him alone to feel.

His friend’s faces appeared in his mind— Bant, Reeft, Garen... Siri Tachi, even Quinlan Vos— and he envisioned each of them with faceless Masters, happily forgetting the failure they’d known as Initiates. They’d go on long missions, grow into Knights with a strong bonds— but never with Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was _always_ forgotten.

He pressed his face to his knees and wept.


	4. Adolescent, Abandoned

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but stare in shock as the ship carrying his Master lifted off and flew away, leaving him alone amidst the broken people on Melida/Daan.

His Master— no, not _his_ Master. He’d left the Jedi, given up all he knew for this war torn planet... And Qui-Gon hadn’t stayed. He didn’t think it worth it. He thought the warring factions had no hope of reconciliation, and Obi-Wan staying was a blatant act of defiance Qui-Gon Jinn hadn’t seen or dealt with since Xanatos was young. So the Master, furious and deeply saddened by his charge’s choice had retrieved Tahl and left, taking Obi-Wan’s hope and future with him, leaving the child alone in the dirt with only sweat, blood, and tears.

Obi-Wan didn’t know how long he’d knelt there in the dirt, shivering with loss, when a soft footstep was heard behind him. He whirled, then relaxed, and Cerasi’s arms encircled his trembling shoulders.

“Come on, Obi-Wan,” She said quietly, regret sleeping into her tone. “You’re one of us now.”

She pulled him to his feet, the boy leaning heavily on her, and they walked towards the nearby bunker.

•—•—•

Later, as he cradled her broken body in his arms and even after— as Qui-Gon flew him home in silence and disgrace— Obi-Wan wished bitterly for her warm and fiery personality, _longed_ for the companionship of the Young... Keenly felt the loss of the group— of _Cerasi_ — with every breath.

The sparkle gone from his eyes, he took upon the mantle of a model Padawan, desperate to show the Council and his Master that he was finally worthy of his position in the Order— and his rebellious side was eventually forgotten, by all save himself and Qui-Gon, who could never _quite_ let it go.


	5. Teen, Abused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait- life has been getting crazy with the holiday season coming up.

He groaned, sharp, burning pain shooting through his back and shoulders. The mission had been a success, thankfully, but it had cost Obi-Wan more than he knew he had...

At sixteen, he was the epitome of the perfect Padawan, obedient and studious, his marks the highest of the last four generations and his saber skills almost at a Knight’s level. He was a gentle, caring soul, a rarely seen compassion residing behind the finely sculpted features— the face he cursed as he sat now within his tiny cabin aboard his Master’s ship.

If not for his looks, their mission would have failed— or, at least, been infinitely more difficult. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan has been assigned to a small planet just outside of the Republic, sent to watch over the crowning of a new king. The unfortunate part of the assignment was... On planet, every grand official and every person of high standing— the people would only allow those of the purest blood and most esteemed reputation near their king— was in possession of a personal slave.

Qui-Gon — without a second thought to Obi-Wan’s own well-being— had claimed the role of ‘Master’, leaving the young and inexperienced boy to meekly accept his low position at his teacher’s side. The crowning had gone without hitch, Obi-Wan conducting himself with the _utmost_ humility and grace through both the dire circumstances he found himself in, and the horrendous advances and remarks thrown his way.

His only slip had cost him, however— without thought, he’d bent to help a young child gather the fruits fallen from a basket, unaware that it had pushed his body into the pathway of the king’s entourage. Stumbling into a noble’s legs, the man had shouted in rage and demanded Qui-Gon discipline his slave— and put on the spot, the Master had accepted the request.

A blessing from the Force had the two Jedi leaving planet later that evening, however, so the young man was only to endure his torment for a few hours at most— but it was still utterly exhausting and painful. The look of disappointment on Qui-Gon’s face as they’d entered their ship had sent Obi-Wan scurrying off to his small cabin, and when the Master knocked on the door with a medkit in hand the boy had sent him away.

He’d failed _again_ , disappointing his Master and almost ruining their covers, and didn’t deserve the relief the medkit would bring.

_No wonder Qui-Gon was upset._

He slowly leaned over until he was resting on his stomach, tired eyes straining to stay open. At least they were on their way home. Hopefully his Master wouldn’t be too upset for too long....

His train of thought slipped away, the young body and mind unable to push through the pain and stay awake any longer.

He never did let a healer see his back.


End file.
